


To See You

by RenjiFan (NotSoLittleLight)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drabble, Early Work, Fluff, M/M, early seasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 11:38:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14568219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotSoLittleLight/pseuds/RenjiFan
Summary: Since day one, his eyes have sought him out.





	To See You

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ on December 5th, 2008. Hope you enjoy!

Since day one, his eyes have sought him out. It’s a compulsion, something he can’t resist. He honestly doesn’t even know  _why_  he always stares, but he finds himself doing it blatantly, not even caring when his co-star quirks a brow curiously at him.

 

Maybe it’s his eyes. They’re the most unique color Jared thinks he’s ever seen, a mix of gold, green and black, swirls of color and pricks of shadow and light, so expressive and able to convey emotions in a way that makes Jared’s heart beat faster, make his skin clam up.

 

Maybe it’s his hair, a bit darker since they filmed the pilot, growing darker and darker as the highlights from Smallville grow out. The sun catches it sometimes and the highlights will shine, catch Jared’s eye from across the room like a piece of gold woven in hair that he can imagine is soft and silky to the touch.

 

Maybe it’s his lips, the perfect bow of his top lip a stark and beautiful contrast to the fullness of his lower. Jensen’s lips are a topic of many jokes on set, something he seems to be used to as he adds in his own dirty cracks, tossing them out like they’re meaningless, like they don’t inspire thoughts and images in Jared’s mind that he knows are inappropriate but still can’t fight against. In the mornings, when they pick him up from his apartment, Jensen’s lips are pale, the slightest peach tint to them. They’re swollen from sleep when they wrap around the coffee Jared makes their driver stop for every morning and they curve upward in the tiniest and most thankful smile as Jensen thanks him. Throughout the day, as Jensen bites and worries his lower lip, it grows pink and then red, the chapstick the make-up girls applying making them stand out even more and the inappropriate thoughts come more and more frequently when those lips smile widely at him from across the set.

 

Maybe it’s his voice, the way Jared can tell the moment Jensen slips into Dean’s character by the way he’s trained his voice to drop low, gravel grinding into the words. It’s something Jensen has perfected as they’ve worked their way from the first episode, each week more and more dirt sliding into the sound of Dean’s voice. Jared always notices the change, when he goes from being Dean to Jensen in a scene, because he almost never has the hard edge that Dean keeps, his voice becoming calm and higher in pitch, the peaks and valleys of his words keeping a perfect time with the Texas vowels that slip through when they are tired after a fourteen hour day. It’s then that his voice seems to roll over Jared, like a physical being, slipping over his skin and sinking in until Jared’s captivated by simply the rise and fall of his words.

 

Maybe it’s his talent, the way he dedicates himself completely to Dean, disregarding his own safety both mentally and physically to slip into the hunter’s skin. When Dean looks at Sam, Jared finds himself wishing Jensen would look at  _him_ that way, with the adoration and loyalty, the silent promise of forever. Jensen has never missed a day of work; has drudged on despite headaches and broken fingers, bruised ribs and torn flesh. He grits his teeth when he knows he can do better, encourages and coaches Jared when he knows  _he_  can, too. Anyone else, Jared would be offended, but from Jensen, it’s a blessing. He would give anything to be the actor Jensen is, to have the dedication and the strength of will it’s taken to get his co-star to where he is.

 

Maybe it’s the way he stands, the way Jensen’s shoulders slouch just a bit compared to Dean, the way they slope in a way that shows modesty, humbleness. He walks with the confidence of a champion, though, as if he has taken on the world and survived all of its trials, and Jared thinks sometimes, when he sees the way Jensen shrinks back from physical contact, that maybe he really has.

 

Maybe it’s his body, the curves and long, lean muscle that flex under cotton and denim as he moves gracefully around set. Jared knew he didn’t have to, but he was on set for every take of Dean’s scene with Cassie, just to see those bared muscles as they wrapped around that girl’s curvy frame, hands gripping tight and holding on, shoulders rolling as he arched into her take after take. Jared hadn’t even bothered with an excuse for his presence and when Jensen had smiled at him, waving a casual hello between takes, Jared smiled back.

 

His eyes have been on Jensen since the beginning, learning, categorizing and memorizing every single thing he sees. His other senses have begun collecting their own information; the way Jensen smells as he pushes Sam up against the bridge grate, the way Jensen’s hands feel wrapped around his waist as Dean helps Sam to his feet, the way Jensen’s voice sounds when it sings mindlessly as they wait in the Impala while they set up for a different angle.

 

All of these things. It could be one, or it could be all. Jared’s pretty convinced there isn’t  _one_  thing about Jensen he doesn’t find fascinating, physically, mentally and spiritually. They talk about everything, from families to acting to sports to women and every word Jensen speaks holds Jared captivated, makes him stupid and speak things he normally would never confess, but he can’t feel embarrassed when those beautiful eyes shine bright, skin pulling together around them, those pink lips curving into a smile as Jensen says “Yeah, I know what ya mean, man,” in the quiet of Jared’s trailer.

 

His body can sense his presence now, like a sixth sense. He can tell Jensen’s mood before any of his regular tells show through, knows Jensen’s mannerisms better than his own. He’s been watching, remembering and he’s never given it a second thought.

 

They’re best friends, two Texas born-and-bred boys who love to rough-house and brag about their hot girlfriends and play video games until they pass out on the couch from exhaustion. And Jared’s eyes remember every move of Jensen’s body toward his own, skin remembers every casual brush of shoulders. He remembers, memorizes and stores it all away for three long and confusing years.

 

It isn’t until the end of season three that Jared realizes why his eyes always seek Jensen out, why he can never get enough of his co-star, why every touch makes him ache in a way he’s never felt before in his twenty five years, why he’s never questioned a single thing when it comes to his best friend.

 

Jensen tastes like gummi bears and steak, like inevitable and eventual, like home and contentment. His voice sounds like the crashing of the tides and his skin feels like the coming of an age.

 

For the first time in three years, when Jared hears Jensen say “I love you, too,” he finally realizes why he can never look away, why he feels the way he does, and for the first time since that very first day, Jared closes his eyes and stops searching. He’s found what he was looking for.


End file.
